


Electra Complex

by littlesinner



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Sex, Ephebophilia, Father/Son Incest, Kon is very possessive and a bit unhealthy about his want for attention, M/M, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Pseudo-Incest, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:25:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9813164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlesinner/pseuds/littlesinner
Summary: Electra Complex:noun, Psychoanalysis.1.)the unresolved, unconscious libidinous desire for the father: designation based on the Greek myth of Electra and Agamemnon.





	

Sometimes, Conner wondered if he knew.

It wasn’t as if he would ever have told him, of course, and it wasn’t as if he wanted him to know. (Well, maybe he did—if he did know, then it would mean he was okay with it, because he hadn’t told him to stop) but he knew, more than likely, that he would have completely ruined their relationship if he knew—and that was much, much more important than anything his body wanted, but even then, he just couldn’t help himself. Not when he was _right there_ , and not when this was _everything_ that he wanted.

He stood there, in the hallway of the Fortress of Solitude, just outside of Superman’s room, and he watched. A pair of red x-ray spectacles over his face—ones that he’d received as a present that year for his birthday—and his front hand jammed down his jeans, glove removed, cupping himself through his underwear, and shifting his front hand up-and-down slowly, careful not to make a single sound.

He’d been doing this for months now, ever since he had gotten a key to the Fortress, and ever since Superman had said he was welcome to come there at any time that he had wanted. It had been his third birthday, and the best one of his life. Everybody had been there, even Superman, and he had been taken-aside by the man and told that he was _proud_ and that since he was a Kent _officially_ —adoption papers and _everything_ —he was getting a key now, and x-ray spectacles, and his personal transporter would go to the North Pole so that he could get there and _nobody else_ and he was **_special_** now, and he knew he was—not even _Batman_ or _Wonder Woman_ had keys to the Fortress of Solitude. It was **_only him_** , and that made him even **_more_** special than _Robin and Batman_. Batman let _Superman_ into the Bat-Cave, but for Superman? It was _only Superboy_.

He bit down on his lip as he took another glance, careful to hold his breath. The room was almost completely empty, in that weird, alien way that the entire Fortress was. The walls were all made of blue-ish white crystal, and there was only a single, flat screen in the wall, and a crystal slap of block that Superman— _Clark, his name was Clark, he wanted Superboy to call him that_ —was laying on. He was completely naked, from head-to-toe, and basking in the Arctic Sun, like he did once a week, every week.

His body was stretched-out, catlike, and through the walls Conner could see every inch of him. His skin was sun-kissed, with a few pale, green scars slashed into his chest and back and arms, hidden underneath short, rough curls of body-hair. He was roguish, rough and animalistic when compared to Conner’s untouched, pale, unblemished smooth skin, but all it did was prove to Conner that he was so much more heroic than people gave him credit for, more than anybody else knew.

Anybody but _him_.

His skin was flushed, though, saturated by the sun, but also by something else. Superman’s large hand had smoothed down his _beautiful, rough, muscular_ torso onto his thigh, and had taken hold of his heavy, thick cock, and he’d been stroking himself lazily for the past few minutes. Conner had watched the entire time as Kal’s cock had grown, lengthening and fattening and reddening, until it was thick and engorged, too heavy to stand-up, and had fallen back with a heavy slap onto his stomach, dripping pre onto the ripples of muscle in his belly.

The first time that Conner had seen it, he had been breathless. It hadn’t been here—it hadn’t even been in the Fortress. It had been in the watchtower, when he had gone to take a shower, and he had accidentally caught Superman in one, when everyone else had gone home, stroking himself under the water. Conner had stood there, watching, until he was uncomfortably tight in his jeans, and had run-away into the bathroom to relieve himself. He had been sure that Superman had heard him, that his adolescent desire would have ruined everything they had, but Superman had never said anything about it, so he had assumed that he was safe.

On the bed of the Fortress, Superman’s body tightened, arching, face twisted into lust, and Conner could feel his cock pressing through the fold in his underwear, until the bare head poked-through, into the light. Conner pushed his briefs down, past his thighs, and took the base of his cock, shifting his hand slowly over it. His cock was so hard that it easily stood-up on its own, curved up with arousal, and his underwear had soaked-through with pre, enough that he worried Superman would _smell_ him as much as _hear_ him, but again, he didn’t even twitch.

He could hear Superman moving again, twisting on the crystal, and Conner licked his lips and sucked on his lower lip as he watched. Superman’s brows were furrowed, brought-together in arousal, his hips twisted to the side so Conner could get a full view of that girthy cock. His mouth was watering, and he wanted it in his mouth desperately, he wanted to _touch_ it and _taste_ it and feel it stretch him open, buried deep inside, but all he could do was pump himself faster, harder, skin over skin and his breath coming in short gasps. His heartbeat was roaring in his head, and Clark’s cock was jumping and twitching in arousal, until finally he came, spurting pearlescent cum over his belly, and Conner came soon-after, shoving his cock down his pants so he wouldn’t splash on the floor, even as his back tightened in orgasm and he stained the front of his pants dark with sticky cum.

He stood there for a moment, panting, ready to walk-away again, when a voice called out to him, making him tense and jump.

“Conner?”

For a minute, he panicked, sure that he was going to be caught, before he decided that the best thing to do would be to pretend nothing happened. Pushing the goggles onto his head and shoving his shirt down as low as possible, he squared his shoulders, zipped his jacket over himself, and strode inside, head and chin held high—

And he stopped short at the sight of Superman, still naked, seed still staining his stomach, looking at him as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

A dark blush bloomed over Conner’s face, and he immediately looked-away, covering his eyes with his arm. “I—sorry, I—Su—Kal, you’re naked—I should—!”

“You should stay. Now come on, look at me. I know you do.”

Slowly, oh so very slowly, Conner removed his arm from his eyes, tearing his gaze from the wall to look back at his mentor. His eyes greedily roamed that body for a moment, before he forced himself to look Clark in the face. Already, he could feel himself swelling again in his pants, alien stamina pushing him back into arousal, but he tried his best to ignore it, and prayed that Superman would as well.

“Come over here.” Clark said calmly, and Superboy obeyed, taking a few steps forward, until he was standing just in front of the man. Lazily, the alien swung his legs over the table, getting to his feet, standing head, chest, and shoulders above Superboy, and somehow the size difference made him blush even harder.

“Superman?” He swallowed, mouth dry, before he licked his lips.

“Did you want something from me?”

“H-huh?” Conner asked, completely thrown for a loop. “Didn’t you call me over so you could…?”

“I hear you watching me and touching yourself every time I do this.” Superman answered smoothly. “So, I want to know. Is there something you want from me?”

Conner’s mind completely short-circuited. This wasn’t happening—this was just some kind of dream. He wasn’t being offered sexual favors from Superman. This was just another self-indulgent dream. Any moment, he’d wake up, with a tent in his sheets or wet sheets, and he’d start all over again.

“Conner?”

“I want you to f—have sex with me.” Conner said quickly, censoring himself so he wouldn’t swear in front of Superman. “Is that…is that okay?”

The silence that passed then was the longest that had ever come in the boy’s life, before Superman simply nodded and said “Okay. Will you suck me, first? So I will be hard-enough for you?”

It was as if he’d asked if Conner wanted to meet Santa Claus. Immediately, the clone dropped to his knees, grabbing the thighs of the kryptonian, and pulling him as close as possible. Clark’s cock was half-hard already, but compared to seeing it from afar, it might as well have been mammoth in comparison. Thick and heady and smelling of musk, Conner gulped, carefully taking the base, and licking a stripe up the underside, testing it, watching how he reacted.

He was immediately pleased to see that he had done a good job, judging by the slow roll of Superman’s hips, and how his cock twitched in arousal. That was all the encouragement he needed, and he latched his lips on the head, the flavor musky and heady on his tongue, and he sucked down as much as he could, until his tongue was completely covered in cock, and he bobbed his head contently as he worked. The weight was comforting, and the sucking motion was soothing, and he shut his eyes, mind slowly clouding with euphoria at the feeling of cock in his mouth and pre in his throat. A low buzz was in his mind, and just above him, he could feel and hear the heavy panting of his mentor, and he only rolled his tongue and sucked down even more, forcing past his gag reflex, until cock hit the back of his throat.

He could have stayed there forever, suckling every last drop of cum ever made from Superman’s cock, but Superman pushed his head back, and Conner let out a soft whine as the heavy weight fell from his lips. He sat there, panting, face flushed and lips swollen red, and for a moment Superman looked down on him almost contemplatively, before Conner felt himself being lifted-up under his arms, and set back down on the crystal bed, on his back. Superman took a moment to pull down his jeans and briefs completely, ass exposed to the air, and Conner shivered as he felt his entire body exposed to Superman—Clark—Clark was looking at him…

His own cock was pulsing with arousal, heavy on his belly, as his shirt was pushed back, and Superman took hold of it, earning a whimper from the boy. He panted openly, head thrown back, and Su—Clark seemed to reach for something, before Conner heard a soft _snap_ from some kind of bottle-cap, and Clark’s fingertip was at his hole.

Conner covered his face as it burned red, he knew he was blushing, and he knew that he was only getting harder. His hole fluttered around the intrusion, but already his body was giving-in to it, easily allowing the fingertip to sink inside of him, swallowing and suckling like his mouth had done moments before, clinging to the flesh inside of him. His thighs were shaking, and his balls were pulling tight against his body, and heat was coiling beneath his hips as his cock twitched, and then suddenly Clark was touching some spot inside of him that made him cry-out openly, and all he could see was white—

He came then, on his stomach, and he lay there panting and quivering, embarrassment burning his face, and for a moment all he could feel was shame that he’d lost control so quickly, but instead of berating him like he’d expected, he felt a soft, gentle kiss on his cheek, and then his forehead, and Conner opened his eyes as Clark’s free hand gently pried his own hands away from covering his face.

“It’s alright. Is it too fast?”

“Please….” Conner whispered, shaking just a little from both embarrassment, his own orgasm, and being entirely emotionally overwhelmed. “Don’t stop until you…”

“Until?”

“I want you…inside me….” When he admitted it, again, he expected Superman to laugh, but the man only quietly considered it, before nodding. He withdrew his finger, and already, Conner could feel jolts of arousal hitting him. How fast did a kryptonian recover? He needed to ask.

The entrance was slow, unbearably so. Clark’s cock was thick and girthy and hot, and when he hooked Conner’s legs atop his shoulders, Conner could feel the blunt head of it nudging against his hole. For a moment, he quivered, sure that Clark wouldn’t make it inside, but again his body seemed all-too-ready to accommodate. Clark sank inside slowly and easily, and Conner’s toes curled and his fingers dug into crystal as it found its way home inside of him, and he couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of _pride_ that he had taken this much so easily. The man’s body clung to him _perfectly_ , as if it was _meant_ to fuck Conner, and even then, he was openly trying to pull the man deeper inside with his asshole, working himself closer to him as he possibly could. The man was just so _thick_ and _hot_ that it was overwhelming, absolutely _filling_ him to the brim, and he had never felt this _complete_ in his life, like the emptiness inside him was so easily-fixed, and for a moment he wanted to laugh at how simple a solution this was, and he rolled his hips down, taking another inch, and earning himself a low grunt from his elder, glee building and spilling-over at the fact that _he_ could do that.

When Clark started to withdraw, he could feel every inch of it inside of him moving, and he shivered at the pleasure, hard all over again, unbearably so. The powerful muscle of the man was atop him, around him, inside of him, and everything around him was Superman, and he panted softly at the overwhelming presence of him absolutely everywhere. He was _inside_ of him, and he was filling Conner to the brim, and he shuddered as he reached his arms up to cling to the man, legs around his hips, trying almost to melt against him. A kiss touched the top of his head, earning a whimper, and then another one, and the muscle dragged home inside of him, pressing down on that sweet area inside of him, milking the sensitive nerve and earning an open cry again. And when Superman moved again, he angled himself there, sliding over it again and again, until Conner was a quivering mess, even more so than before, and Superman picked up speed until the sound of flesh hitting flesh was echoing in the crystal cavern.

When Conner came a second time, he tried earnestly to hold it in, but as he was tightening his body to keep himself in a second longer, he could hear Clark grunt and press down into Conner as much as possible, before a flood of creamy heat and warmth filled his asshole, buried deep as he could possibly go. That was it for Conner, and he was cumming after, painting their torsos with the sticky substance. He rolled his hips down as much as he possibly could, taking the cock and seed as deep as he was physically able, and it was only after a few more aftershocks that Clark finally withdrew, and Superboy was left almost physically glowing, sated completely, with an ass full of Superman’s cum.

Another kiss was pressed to his forehead, and he reached up, grabbing the back of Clark’s head to keep him there.

“You should get cleaned up.”

“I’ll stay a while…”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah…unless you want to do it again…”

**Author's Note:**

> The actual Electra Complex is basically exclusive to girls, but the title was too good to pass-up. It also involves competition with the mother, too...maybe if I one day continue this, I'll have him kill Lex? Idk. We'll see where this goes, if it goes.


End file.
